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Day 160: God buzzed in my ear, or maybe it was just a mosquito.

Published on: June 9, 2018June 10, 2018 by Missy O'Brien Category:365 Days of Mirth 6 Comments

I’m trying my damnedest to think peaceful thoughts and find the zen of healing, reclining there at the community acupuncture place. I’m needled by the lack of privacy and by the sharp pricks of disapproval I feel for my fellow patients, who answer the practitioner’s hushed quiet queries in...

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Day 158: Does Melania Have These Problems?

Published on: June 7, 2018 by Missy O'Brien Category:365 Days of Mirth 15 Comments

“I watched you walk across the room,” he says. My heart thrills a little. “You’ve got a real spring in your step,” he says. My heart thrills a little more.  I like this man and find him attractive, in that rueful “would that I were 20 years younger” sort...

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Day 78: One In A Million More

Published on: March 19, 2018 by Missy O'Brien Category:365 Days of Mirth 4 Comments

An older gentlemen I esteem told me years ago that everything went to hell once you hit age 50. I was in my 40s at the time, still relatively immortal. I rolled my eyes discreetly, felt sad that he was apparently turning into a tedious old curmudgeon, and told...

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Day 77: Send Rulers, Guns & Money

Published on: March 18, 2018 by Missy O'Brien Category:365 Days of Mirth 4 Comments

“Be a dentist!” he told me, over and over again, when I was young and impressionable. Uncle Denis was a teacher, as were my parents. He felt it important that someone in the family find financial success and professional respect. The quest for financial success and professional respect is...

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Day 76: Luck O’ The Mongrel

Published on: March 17, 2018March 17, 2018 by Missy O'Brien Category:365 Days of Mirth 1 Comment

Cabbage, potatoes, carrots – and hot dogs. Hey, they were at least pink. I couldn’t afford corned beef – I was in college, living off campus and scrounging for food. That was a tragic Saint Patrick’s Day. I was cooking only for myself, lonely but spared at least from...

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The Search for Mirth

 

 

 

 

 

Gratitude is easy — you’re upright with a pulse and still remember where you live? Grateful, and done!

Mirth is hard — one look at the headlines can rob you of the will to live. Why bother with pointless exercises like brushing your teeth or breathing?

And so I search for Mirth — a capricious mistress, whimsical and perverse and untidy and contrary. But that’s what makes her interesting.

While misery loves company, Mirth enjoys it even more. Thanks for joining me!

Missy O’Brien | mirthfulmissy@gmail.com

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